


Say You Won't Let Go

by HuyanaShadowheart



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9256061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuyanaShadowheart/pseuds/HuyanaShadowheart
Summary: You and Sam had met after the events of Uncharted 4 and had been a couple for some time. However, you broke it off when you realized that Sam wasn’t ready to settle down yet, that he still needed to find some more treasures before he would. Shortly after you broke up with him, you got diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour. When you meet Sam again unexpectedly, you don’t tell him about your condition. Until it’s too late.Fic title and chapter titles are lyrics from James Arthur’s Say You Won’t Let Go





	1. I knew I loved you then

**Author's Note:**

> this will probably be very sad and not have a happy ending. Also: I’m no doctor and actually have zero knowledge of brain tumours, so pls bear with me and the knowledge I scoured up through the Internet.

It had been a year since you and Samuel Drake had broken up – well, more like, you had broken up with him – and about seven months since you had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour. The doctors had given you about two, maybe three years and, oddly enough, they had advised you to get all your affects sorted, maybe even start a bucket list and work yourself through that, after you had refused making plans for any treatment. You had shrugged and said that you had everything here that you needed. No need for some last minute adventures. And that was true for the most part. The only thing you really wanted was to live out the remainder of your life the way it was. Working in a bar close to the beach in Rio de Janeiro, living in a modest little flat and enjoying your last two years in _peace_.

                Peace was also the reason you hadn’t told your boss or your friends about your condition at first. But they found out eventually, and you got what you didn’t want at all – pity. Your friends and everybody you knew constantly walking on egg shells around you. You pretended you didn’t see the way they looked at you, didn’t hear them talking about you in hushed voices. Of course, you knew they were only worried, they loved you after all, but you hated nothing more than being treated like what you really were – a dead woman walking. It was only a matter of time. And the headaches and momentary loss of balance, as well as your difficulty to remember things or find the right words, which was worse on some days than on others, didn’t really help.

                The day Samuel Drake waltzed back into your life was one of the… nicer days. You had refused to go home and rest, although you felt like your head was killing you – which, coincidentally, it actually was. Your boss had confined you to cleaning glasses and wipe the tables. You were wiping one of the tables in the front of the bar, close to the beach, when you heard a familiar voice.

                 ‘Thought, I’d find you here.’ You knew he was grinning without looking. You heard it in his voice, that damned voice with that attractive Bostonian accent.

                ‘Well, not all of us can afford to travel the world in search for treasures. Most of us have to work for a living,’ you replied, finished cleaning that one table and moved on to the next one without looking at him even once. It was not that you didn’t want to look at him, you simply were afraid to see his smug grin melt away as he remembered that you did not part in an amicable fashion. But he wasn’t going to let you get away that quickly.

                ‘Oh, come on, Y/N! No hug? No smile? You didn’t even look at me!’ You looked up at him for a second, not once stopping to clean table after table.

                ‘I’m working, _Samuel_. I don’t have time right now. And, frankly, I didn’t expect you. Because you didn’t tell me you were suddenly gonna show up here out of the blue and count on me dropping everything for you, including my underwear, I can imagine,’ you retorted. Your words came out sharper than you had intended, but this headache was really killing you. And Sam’s sudden appearance only made matters worse. You were always flustered around him, your body simply reacting to the attraction it felt towards Sam.

                Sam stepped towards you, put his hand on yours that was still furiously wiping the now clean table in front of you, and thus forced you to look up at him. His scent filled your nose and your heart immediately started to pound in your chest. You looked up into his face and met his hazel eyes that you gave his typical pleading puppy look.

                ‘Please, I just want to talk to you. Catch up. Maybe have a drink, or two,’ he shrugged.

                ‘And those two drinks then lead to more until we mysteriously find ourselves back at my place, making love all night long?’ you whispered, turned around to him completely  and let your free hand lasciviously wander up his chest, pressing your body against his in the process. He visibly swallowed – neither of you had ever been able to deny, nor hide, the effect the other had on either of you –, you scoffed and shook your head, bringing, once again, distance between the two of you. You slipped your hand out from under his and moved on to the next table.

                ‘Sorry, Sammy-boy. But I have to work,’ you finally said, glancing over your shoulder.

                ‘And after work? Just a drink and talking. We don’t need to go back to yours and sleep with each other. Unless you want to?’ he insisted. Samuel Drake had always been somebody who would never give up unless he got what he wanted. And with you, he usually succeeded sooner than later.

                You sighed. ‘Fine. Give me half an hour.’

                ‘Perfect. I’ll just sit over here and wait for you,’ he chirped. You rolled your eyes at him and mentally cursed yourself for giving into him so damn easily. But it was Sam.

                Half an hour later, you got a bottle of Rum and two glasses from behind the bar and then sat down in opposite from him.

                ‘Alright, Drake. What do you really want from me?’ you asked.

                Sam took a gulp from his glass and stared at the bottom of the same one before he looked into your eyes. ‘From the first moment I saw you in this very bar, I knew you were the one for me. You knew that right?’

                You nodded, trying to suppress a groan as your head reminded you that you were actually supposed to be home and resting, not jugging down drink after drink with your ex-boyfriend, who suddenly started talking about your relationship again.

                ‘Sadly, it didn’t work out. Because you weren’t ready,’ you countered.

                ‘Well, I’m ready now. If you’d be willing to give me a second chance?’ You stared at him for a second. Was he really serious? ‘Unless you have somebody else?’ You shook your head at that.

                ‘No, couldn’t quite find anybody that could compare to the legendary Samuel Drake, treasure hunter and adventurer, and lady-killer.’ Sam laughed at that and you joined in. You took a sip from your drink and sighed, eyes fixed on the golden liquid in your glass. You switched your attention back to him when he took your right hand in his.

                ‘Please, Y/N, give me a second chance?’ There it was again, those puppy eyes that were irresistible for you and he knew it. You stayed quiet for a minute or two – a period in which your mind told you to tell him, to come right out with the truth and let him know that time was running out for you, that he was wasting his time and would only get hurt. But in a very impulsive moment, a selfish moment, you decided against it. You didn’t want to spoil what happy months you could possibly share by letting him know that you were dying.

                Instead you smiled at him, interlaced your fingers with his and said: ‘Fine. But don’t blow it this time, Drake.’

               


	2. When you look over your shoulder

Several days had passed since Sam had come back into your life and you had agreed on giving the relationship another chance. You had to admit, the last days had been a whirlwind. Sam had moved in with you from the first day he had come back to Rio, since he hadn’t thought the whole accommodation situation through and had nowhere else to stay. You could still roll your eyes at him for that. It was so typically him, to make initial plans, but then at some point stop planning and make the rest up as he went along.

                ‘Perhaps that works for your treasure hunts, Mr “I don’t need plans”, but it definitely doesn’t work when you’re trying to get your ex-girlfriend back,’ you had commented on the fact when he told you, with a sheepish grin, that he didn’t know where to go for the night.

                ‘Well, I was kinda counting on you taking me back,’ he had replied and apologetically scratched the back of his head. You had sighed and then agreed on him crashing at your place for a while.

                The first few nights, you had banned Sam onto the couch during the night. When he had given you a questioning look, you had simply shrugged and said that you wanted to take it slow – not that you were able to afford taking your time, considering your condition – and that you had to get used to having Sam in your flat first. But since last night, you had changed your position on Sam sleeping on the couch.

                Carefully, you rolled over onto your left side and looked at Sam, who had curled up next to you in the bed and was still fast asleep. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the sunlight that fell into the room through the window illuminated his silhouette. You tried to suppress a small smile and fought the urge to let your hands wander through his hair like you had done last night.

                You got up and out of bed as silent as you could, stopped to look back over your shoulder when you heard Sam stirring, but he simply sighed and turned around. You grinned to yourself as you quietly went into your bathroom and closed the door behind you. Your grin slowly faded when you opened the medicine cabinet, caught a glance of yourself in the mirror and stared at your face for a moment.

                _You should tell him. It’ll only hurt him more if you don’t._

                But you shook your head, got one of the pill bottles with one of the prescribed pain meds and took the amount of pills you were allowed to. Then you put the bottle back into the cabinet and closed it firmly. You took one of the fresh towels and placed it on the holder next to the shower cabin.  You got into the shower, turned on the hot water and relaxed.

                Your mind wandered back to last night. A night you and Sam had spent sleeping together, although it hadn’t involved much sleeping. But these nights spent without sleep had been nothing uncommon when you and he had first been together. You let the hot water from the shower flow down over face and your shoulders, your thoughts going back to last night again.

                The way Sam had held you in his arms, he had been careful at first as if you’d vanish into thin air if he moved too fast. You had lifted up your hands, stroked his face, let your fingers comb through his hair and ultimately rest against his chest. Sam had pulled you closer, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead before showering the rest of your face with small, light kisses. He had paused for a moment as he reached your mouth, his lips just inches from yours.

                ‘God, I missed you,’ he had whispered against your lips before closing the distance and pulling you in for a deep, but tender kiss. He had pushed you backwards, lips never leaving yours, until you reached your bed. You had pulled him downwards with you, locking your hands behind his head, not willing to let him go.

                You had both quickly come to the wordless agreement that your clothes only were a hindrance, so they had to go. Sam had stumbled out of his trousers and underwear, eager to get back to you and your embrace. Your bodies had moved together so perfectly in sync as if you hadn’t spent a year apart from each other. Sam’s hands had roamed your body, knowing exactly where he needed to touch you to get a moan or gasp from you.

                It didn’t take long for either of you to get close to the edge, which you flew over together. Your nails had dug into Sam’s back, eliciting a groan from him, as his thrusts became sloppy and increased in speed once more.

                You smiled as you thought about how you two had cuddled afterwards, you had felt so sheltered in Sam’s arms, as if you had finally come back home after a long journey. That would have been another chance to tell him about your sickness, but you had been too afraid to ruin the moment.

                You turned off the water, grabbed your towel and dried yourself off, then got ready for work. You hadn’t expected Sam to be awake when you left the bathroom, but he was smiling at you from the bed.

                ‘Morning, babe,’ he murmured. You smiled at him and chirped a ‘Good Morning’ in his direction. Sam sat up in bed and watched you get dressed.

                ‘You want me to pick you up after work today?’ he asked.

                ‘Sure, why not. I can’t tell you the exact time when I’ll have off today though. Gonna be a busy day,’ you replied, went over to Sam to give him a goodbye kiss and then got your bag and went to work.

 

                You hadn’t been wrong when you said that today would be a busy day. And your balance problems only made things worse. You had – unintentionally – shattered more than your fair share of glasses during the day and had tripped over your feet several times. You had earned a scraped knee and two cuts on your hands from picking up broken glass shards, but still insisted that you were fit to work.

                When your boss asked if Sam knew, you denied it, explaining that you didn’t want to ruin what little time you had left by making him aware of the fact that he would get hurt so badly. You had thought about breaking it off with Sam again, but after the last night, you were too selfish to actually do it. He made you feel good, made you feel whole and at home. You didn’t want to break his heart a second time, although you knew his heart would get broken eventually. But you simply couldn’t do it.

                So you also didn’t tell Sam the truth when he picked you up and asked about knee and the cuts. You simply said that you had been a bit too careless, tripped and broken a few glasses. Nothing to be worried about.


	3. We've come so far my dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s a bit shorter than the others, but I didn’t feel comfortable with drawing it out much more XD

It was a wonderful day, sunny with a cloudless sky. The leaves of the palm trees above you rustled in a light breeze while you enjoyed your day off with Sam. Speaking of your ex-now-again-boyfriend, you looked over to him and grinned. Seemed he had dozed off. Four months had now passed since you and the snoring ex-treasure hunter next to you had gotten back together. And it got increasingly difficult to hide your condition from him. Additionally to the headaches and the balance problems, your memory and your speech ability were slowly starting to slip through your fingers. There were moments where you couldn’t remember a specific word and got frustrated with yourself, but at the same time you had to hide it from Sam.

                _Why? Why do you have to be so stupid and lie to him? Just fucking tell him, Y/N!_

                But no. _Now_ , you were too much of a coward to actually face reality. You preferred to stay in your unstable bubble of happiness and bliss. Here. With Sam. Who must’ve noticed that you had sat up, because he suddenly moved. His hands started tracing intricate patterns on your arms and moved upwards. He leaned against you, his mouth close to your ear.

                ‘What are you thinking about?’ he mumbled, his voice heavy with sun-induced sleep.

                You shrugged. ‘This and that?’

                ‘Wanna tell me about it?’ He rested his chin on your shoulder and when you turned your head, he looked at you attentively.

                ‘It’s nothing, really. Stop worrying,’ you insisted and pressed a quick kiss on his lips.

                ‘Well, seems I can’t. Since Nate doesn’t really need me looking out for him anymore. I guess, I’m just one of those people that never stop worrying about the ones they love,’ Sam replied, put one of the stray strands of your hair behind your ear and let his hand rest against your cheek.

                ‘Because I do. _I love you_ , Y/N. And I wanna spend the rest of our long lives with you. If you want that too, of course.’ He looked at you with so much hope and love, it broke your heart knowing how much he cared for you. It almost made you cry.

                ‘Sure. Why not? But you’ll have to catch me first!’ you said, pushed him back down into the sand, got up and away from him as quickly as you could. You heard Sam curse and then come after you.

                Running on sand was already a not so easy task – especially when you wanted to be quick –, but for somebody who had problems with keeping their balance, it was almost an impossible task. You laughed, let yourself be enveloped by the lie of having a happy and long life with Sam. You looked back over your shoulder – and that was the one thing you shouldn’t have done.

                Your foot got caught in something, you twisted your ankle, lost your balance and fell down in the sand.

                ‘Y/N!’ you heard Sam shout after you. You sat up, looked at your now throbbing ankle. Sam got down on his knees when he reached you.

                ‘You ok?’ he asked. You replied with shaking your head.

                ‘Ow. I think, I sprained my ankle.’ Sam looked at you, then at your foot.

                ‘Well, better let a doctor have a look at that. Come on,’ he stated and then picked you up bridal style.

                ‘Seriously, Sam. That’s not necessary. I just need some ice for my foot, that’s all,’ you protested.

                ‘Nu-uh. Not taking any chances with you. Could have snapped something.’

                You gave up after trying to persuade him to just get you home for the fiftieth time. You really should’ve told him about the tumour. But now it was too late.

 

                You tried not to let Sam know how nervous you were about being in the hospital. He did see it though, but assumed that you were just generally uncomfortable in hospitals, not that something else was wrong. Like that you had lied to him for months. You waited impatiently in one of the treatment rooms, Sam pacing the length of the room behind you.

                ‘Sam, calm down. It’s just a sprained ankle. You’re going to get a heart attack if you keep worrying so much,’ you tried to calm him. Sam didn’t get to reply as the doctor entered the room in that moment. Lucky for you, it was the same doctor that had diagnosed your tumour and treated you so far.

                ‘Well, well. Y/N, you know that when I told you to make the most of the last two years, I did not mean, to run around and sprain your ankle,’ he said and looked up from your patient file.

                ‘See, Sam? Told you, it’s just a sprained ankle,’ you said and turned around to your boyfriend, who had stopped pacing and stood very still right now. _Too still_.

                ‘I’m sorry, what did you mean with ‘make the most of the last two years’? What last years?’ Sam whispered. His face had turned to an ashen grey, you were worried he would really suffer a heart attack in a second.  

                ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed, you knew, since you’re the boyfriend and everything,’ the doctor answered.

                ‘Knew what?’ Sam asked. His voice was dangerously quiet, a threatening whisper.

                You closed your eyes and turned away from Sam. You didn’t want to see his reaction when he finally knew.

                ‘Your girlfriend has a malignant brain tumour. We gave her two years, three at the most. Well, now, it’s only a year and a few months.’ Even though you couldn’t bear it, you looked at Sam’s face again. A face that was now a mask of shock, his mouth kept opening and closing, but now words could escape.

                ‘I’m sorry, but _she’s going to die_.’


	4. When I needed you most

‘Sam, please! Please just stop and talk to me!’ you pleaded while watching him run through your flat and gathering his things.

                ‘Talk? You want to _talk_?! After _lying_ to me for months?!’ he snapped back at you.

                He had been quiet for the whole taxi ride back from the hospital. But now he exploded, and there was nothing you could do than apologize over and over again.

                ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please, just listen to me. Let me explain,’ you asked, tears started stinging in your eyes before running down over your cheeks.

                This time it wasn’t Sam who had ruined everything. It had all been you. You and your selfish notion of trying to protect him, while that only hurt him more. You knew it. Sam stopped, balled up the shirt he had just collected in his fist.

                ‘Just tell me one thing. Why? Why did you lie to me?’ His hazel eyes that usually were filled with so much love for you, were now full of hurt. ‘I just don’t understand. Why would do that to me? To _me_ of all people. I _love_ you, Y/N. The fact that you’re dying doesn’t change that.’

                Now you were fully sobbing. ‘I’m so _sorry_. I just… I couldn’t. I didn’t want to ruin what little time we had left together. I didn’t want you to look at me the way you look at me now. I didn’t want your pity, didn’t want you to worry. Please, Sam, _stay_. I need you. I can’t do this without you!’

                He shook his head, threw the remaining clothes into his bag, zipped it shut and then walked to the door. Before he left, he turned around once more. Now, there were tears in his eyes too.

                ‘I’m sorry. But I can’t stay. Not right now. I need… some time for myself. Please, understand,’ he mumbled, looked back at you one last time and then he was gone. And you broke down completely.

 

                Months passed and you didn’t hear anything from Sam, not a word where he’s hiding out. You just hoped, he’d come back someday. That there was one small chance, where he could forgive you. With Sam gone, you had gotten worse. Words kept fleeing your grasp more frequently, days blurred into one and your balance got so terrible that you began to be covered in bruises and scrapes. It was so bad that you had to give up your job at the bar, confined yourself to the familiar walls of your flat.

                You sat in your big, comfortable chair – what was it called again? You couldn’t remember. You also couldn’t remember why you were sitting there, staring at the door of flat as if you were expecting something or someone. Oh yeah, that’s right, you were in fact waiting for one of your friends to bring you the groceries for next week. Your friends and even your boss had been so supportive, you didn’t deserve that.

                Just as you had expected, you heard a knock on the door. You heaved yourself out of the chair – arm chair, that’s what it was – and walked over to the door, trailing at least one hand on any piece of furniture in your reach so you wouldn’t fall down. You sighed a sigh of relief as you finally reached the door, your hand firmly on the knob as you opened it – and looked straight into Sam’s face.

                ‘Sam,’ you breathed and smiled at him. He smiled back at you.

                ‘What are you suddenly doing here? Haven’t seen you in a year,’ you chirped, genuinely happy to see him, although there was something else in the back of your mind, something dark. And you knew exactly what, when you saw how the smile fell from Sam’s lips and he frowned in confusion and worry.

                ‘No, wait, that was… months ago, wasn’t it? Damn tumour, making my brain all fuzzy and throwing my memories out of order,’ you grumbled, and then remembered that you had yet to let him inside, so you stepped aside and let him enter. He didn’t move far away from you.

                ‘Where you been?’ you wanted to know.

                ‘At my brother’s place. Had to think all of this through for once. Y/N, are you alright?’ Sam said, stepped closer and touched your arm, taking your hand in his.

                ‘Of course not, stupid. I’m dying, my brain’s confused, my feet betray me every four steps I take. But at least, I’ve got the one thing that I wanted.’ You smiled up at him, put your other hand on his that still held yours.

                ‘What is that?’

                ‘What is what?’ Damn it. You needed to get it together. You didn’t want Sam to see you like this, to see you dying before his eyes.

                ‘The one thing that you wanted?’ he tried to jump-start your memory.

                ‘You. You came back,’ you replied and pulled Sam in for a hug, hiding your face at his chest.

                ‘Of course I did. I realised that, while I might not have particularly liked the fact that you lied to me about your condition, you did it because you wanted to protect me. And I… I wanted to say goodbye and to spend the last months of your life _with_ you, not without you. I love you, Y/N,’ he mumbled into your hair and put his arms around you.

                You sighed happily. ‘That’s… good. I’m sorry, I didn’t… tell you earlier. Should’ve told you,’ you began to slur, your head felt so light.

                ‘Y/N? Speak to me, what’s wrong, babe?’ Sam took your face into his hands and looked at you worryingly.

                ‘Don’t know. Feel like I’m gonna… _faint_.’ You collapsed in his arms.

                ‘Alright, let’s get you to a hospital.’ His voice sounded so far away, but you could feel his arms. You felt so sheltered, so warm, _loved_. You closed your eyes and let the blackness envelop you.


	5. I promise till death we part

This constant beeping was incredibly annoying. Wasn’t there anyway you could turn that off? You groaned, blinked a few times and then fully opened your eyes. Sam had fallen asleep in a chair next to your hospital bed. When had he come back? And why were you in the hospital? What was going on?

                ‘Sam?’ Your voice was hoarse, barely audible, your throat dry. What happened?

                ‘Sam!’ you tried again, this time he jerked awake. He looked confused for a second, before his eyes fell on you and smiled.

                ‘Y/N, you’re awake! Thank God. I didn’t think I’d get the chance to properly say goodbye,’ he blubbered and got out of his chair, walked over to you and sat down on the bed. He took your hand in his, the thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

                ‘Say goodbye? What? Why? When did you even get back here? And why am I in the hospital?’ You felt panic rise inside your chest, your heart started to race, the beeping sped up in accordance with your heartbeat. Oh, yeah, heart monitor, that’s what that beeping was. Sam pulled you closer to him, seated you in his lap as best he could with the cables and tubes connected to your body.

                ‘Hey, hey. Calm down. It’s okay, babe. It’s okay,’ he whispered, his hand stroked your back.

                ‘I got back yesterday, went to apologize to you. Then you… fainted and I brought you here, to the hospital. Y/N, you’ve got a brain tumour. The doctors… they say that you don’t have much time left. That’s why you… have trouble remembering things.’

                You felt yourself shaking, no, it wasn’t you that was shaking. Was he _crying_? You pushed yourself away from him a little bit, so you could get a proper look at his face.

                ‘Sam.’ You put your hands on either side of his face, his cheeks were wet and he looked at you with tear-filled eyes. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t want to go, that you couldn’t bear leaving him behind, knowing how much he loved you.

                ‘I know, I know,’ Sam replied, pulling you close again. You hugged him back, held on for dear life.

                ‘ _I love you, Sam. I love you so much._ But you have to promise me that you won’t give up on life, just because I’m not here with you anymore, not in the flesh. I’ll always be with you. Just promise me that you’ll keep living your life. Don’t look back,’ you mumbled. Wherever that energy, that had let you wake up and talk to Sam, had come from, it was slowly melting away again. But Sam did something that you weren’t expecting. He started to laugh, through his tears, he was actually, _laughing_. You looked at him and furrowed your brows. What was so funny?

                ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just… you said _exactly_ what I was expecting you to say. I love you too, you idiot. But I… can’t think of a life without you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with _you_. But of course, fate had to intervene and ruin everything.’ He started to cry again.

                ‘Hey, hey. Sam. Sam, look at me.’ He looked down at you. ‘At least we got a second chance, right? Not everybody gets that. ‘ Sam shook his head at that.

                ‘Call me a selfish asshole, but I don’t want to let you go. Not now, not ever. Not after everything that we’ve been through.’

                ‘I know that. And I don’t want to go. But there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s…’

                ‘Don’t say that it’s just life. Because I honestly refuse to accept that. I just got you back! I can’t let you leave now. Please. Don’t go.’

                ‘That’s not for you to decide, Mr Drake. You know that.’ You stroked his cheeks and smiled at him weakly. You were getting tired, everything started to hurt again.

                ‘Sam… I’m tired. I think… it’s time,’ you mumbled. He sniffed, put you back down onto your bed.

                ‘Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me, Sam.’

                ‘I won’t, I promise. I’ll stay right here, see?’ He laid down next to you, put his arms around your waist.

                ‘I don’t wanna go,’ you whimpered, your voice was getting quieter and smaller with every minute that passed. Speaking was becoming harder, let alone keeping your eyes open.

                ‘I know, babe. I know.’

                Your eyelids fluttered closed as you drifted off into the black void of what you thought was sleep, but you wouldn’t be able to return. The last thing you felt, was Sam pressing a kiss against your cheek and then putting his tear-stained face in the crook of your neck. He was crying again. You wanted to tell him to stop, that it was okay, that you weren’t going anywhere, but you couldn’t. You were already too far gone.


End file.
